Serendipity
by FandomObsessedGirl
Summary: AU - Clara moves to a small town called Leadworth, finding something she wasn't looking for along the way. Pairings: Rose x 10, Amy x Rory, Clara x 11 (OTP city :3) Also included: Martha, Donna, Jack, Mickey and Mels (Other characters also make appearances at times)
1. Clara Oswald

**A/N I do not own Doctor Who or any of the characters. The Leadworth mentioned is my own version of the town and isn't based on the town in DW, although certain aspects have been included. "Eyes front, soldier" is of course one of Clara's lines from the Snowmen. Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed it, please leave a short review! Equally, if you didn't like it, consider maybe telling me how to improve it? Thanks again! ~Ellie**

* * *

Clara Oswald approached the small town of Leadworth in her tiny red car. She had just graduated from university at the age of 24 after taking 3 gap years to look after a family friend's children.

She wasn't sure why, but Leadworth had just seemed like a good place for her to go. The community was very close and the previous occupant of the house she was moving into had been perfectly lovely to her, telling her that if she chose to move in, the villagers would certainly take to her after a while.

As she trundled along the small country lanes, the leaves of the bushes brushing against her car window, she started to sing along to the radio. The house she was taking over was also a small bookstore, and she intended to run it to earn a living. She loved books, but could never name her favourite. To her, all books were equally special and she treated them all with respect and care.

The first thing on her list of things to do was redecorate the store; the previous owner had been elderly and been unable to do much towards the upkeep of the shop. The front was falling into disrepair, so she planned to repaint it and she had a new sign that would be ready for her to pick up from the nearest town the next day, although it was a 30-minute drive. No wonder all the inhabitants of Leadworth knew each other – there was no-one else to know.

As Clara turned down the road that ran through Leadworth, she saw the inhabitants out on the streets stop and whisper to each other about the new car. Cars didn't just pass through Leadworth, not when there was a motorway that passed it. A blonde haired young woman was out with another young woman with fiery red hair, both of whom looked at the car with interest, rather than hostility. Further down the road, she saw a small hospital and a little bakery, along with a pub. Apart from that, and a minute school that looked as if it contained about 15 pupils, if that, it was all houses, mostly small cottages, apart from one big, old house that stood back from the road.

On the other side of the village, Clara's new bookstore stood, paint peeling with the windows and doors boarded up. It was only 3 o'clock and Clara felt she could make a good start on making the store look more welcoming; she could at least take down the boards and make a start on arranging the store.

The books, which had been included in the sale, were away in storage and Clara planned to collect them at the same time as she picked up her new sign, although thinking about it, she might need to make 2 trips. Or 3. She wasn't entirely sure how many books there were.

Clara parked her car and got out her new keys, locking the car as she walked up to the front door. She had to get out her tool kit to wrench away the board blocking up the door before she could even get in. It was a fairly small place, with only the bookstore and a kitchen downstairs. Upstairs, there were 2 bedrooms, a lounge and a bathroom. The plan was to rent out one of the bedrooms if there were any takers or, if not, she didn't know what to do with it. Maybe she'd buy more books and store them in there. Anyway, that was a problem for another day.

The next thing Clara did was take down the boards over the windows, to let some light in. The actual room was a bit dusty, so Clara decided that she would tackle the living area first, then if she had time she would clean up the bookstore and arrange the shelves.

Because she only had a tiny car, she had been unable to bring any furniture, so her bed was an air bed, but the kitchen was equipped with units and a fridge and an oven. "I'm going to have to order a sofa as soon as possible," said Clara, looking up, almost surprised to find she was alone, and not with her old flat-mate, who had moved down south, to somewhere in Dorset.

Heading back to her car, she realised she had never felt more lonely. Here she was, miles from Lancaster, miles from her university, in a small town where she was an outsider. How could she ever fit in?

* * *

The next day, after an uncomfortable night sleeping on an air bed in a bare room, Clara continued to work on the shop. She had finished tidying the inside and had visited the town to collect her new sign. The books could wait, she decided. The storage was paid for for another week, so there was no immediate rush.

At that precise moment in time, she was up a ladder in messy overalls, sanding down the front of the shop, preparing to for a new coat of paint. She was humming a tune to herself when she heard a voice from down the ladder.

"'Ello!" It called cheerily and Clara jumped. Below her, looking up to her, was a man, perhaps 30. One of the most noticeable things about his appearance – after the floppy hair and quite frankly enormous chin – was his fashion sense, or lack of it. He was wearing a bow tie and suspenders, which Clara thought made him look ridiculous, although she was hardly looking her best.

The way he seemed to be looking at her bum made her slightly uneasy and she called down to him, "Eyes front, soldier!" The man sniffed and looked a bit offended as she climbed down the ladder to meet him. "Clara Oswald," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm new." They both looked down at her hand, which had, somehow, been covered in paint splatters. Clara cursed mentally. She hadn't even used paint, though she had moved the pot.

"Sorry," she said quickly, wiping her hand on her overalls. "I don't know how that got there." Chin Boy, as she was calling him in her head, grabbed her hand and shook it enthusiastically.

"Hello Clara Oswald, I'm John Smith. Your name is far more interesting than mine, I'm a teacher at the school. I teach mainly History, Science, Maths and Geography. My friend Amy Pond teaches…" At this point he waved his hand around, seemingly at a loss for the words.

"…Other stuff," he finished, grinning. Clara grinned back; his mood was infectious.

"As you can see, I'm taking over the bookstore. Not sure how well it'll work out, I don't know anyone and I don't know if people will come…"

"Of course they will! Clara Oswald, if there's one thing you need to know about this village, it's that everyone loves books! And you do know someone-" he looked a little hurt "-you know me!"

"I've only just met you! All I know is your name, nothing else at all!" He puffed himself up, trying to look a bit more impressive, but Clara wasn't buying it. She just raised her eyebrows and folded her arms. "Come to dinner with me," he said, avoiding eye contact.

"We've only just met. And you're asking me to dinner?" John scratched his face nervously while Clara smirked. He was easily embarrassed apparently.

"No… yes… Um… only if you want to… I mean, as friends… so you can meet some of the other people here, you know… the pub sells good food and a lot of people meet up there…"

"OK, see you there at 7?" she asked, turning back into the bookstore. He was flustered again by her sudden agreement and she tried not to laugh.

"Yes, that's good… I'll see you there…" Clara smiled excitedly to herself as she went back into the bookstore, watching out a window as John Smith, or Chin Boy, straightened his bow tie and walked off, towards the centre of the village. It occurred to her that he had only walked down to the book store to greet her, as he had gone back the way he had come, but she dismissed the thought. People didn't do that, did they?

* * *

At 6 o'clock, Clara finished working on her shop and searched through her cases for something to wear. Most of her wardrobe was dresses and she had no problem picking out a nice outfit, complete with her favourite boots. She took a shower, washing off all the dust and paint that had coated her body in a thin layer of muck throughout the day, and she put quite a bit of shampoo in her hair, because, to be quite frank, it looked awful.

She exited the bathroom 20 minutes later fully dressed, with her towel over one shoulder, her wet hair on it. She dug her hairdryer out from one of the cases and quickly dried and brushed it before she put her purse into her favourite red bag, applied makeup, pulled on her boots and headed out.

She was surprised to see John was outside, in a pair of corduroy trousers, a blue shirt, waistcoat and, of course, a bowtie, which seemed to be his signature piece of clothing. "Clara!" he called excitedly. "I thought you might not know where the pub is, so I thought I'd come and meet you." He was looking like an excited toddler and Clara skipped the last couple of steps.

"I think I could've found my way," she told him, a little sternly. "But I appreciate the gesture."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they turned to walk down the road, as he spoke to her about the village, but about halfway down the road he removed his arm, as if he hadn't realised what he was doing.

Clara looked up at him, properly noticing the height difference that she hadn't seen before. He had to be nearly a foot taller than her, but for some reason she didn't mind. Being short, or petite as she called it, usually annoyed her, but for some reason, she quite liked him being taller; his odd mannerisms and quirky behaviour made her seem graceful and elegant, which she certainly wasn't.

Her PE reports had been something along the lines of 'A fast runner, but it would greatly help if she had some more co-ordination to be able to play team sports effectively.' Her favourite class had been cooking, although she always tried to make soufflés, but she always failed.

"So, who's who around here?" Clara asked, hoping to get to know a bit more about her fellow villagers.

"Well, Doctor James McCrimmon is the village doctor, he works at the hospital with Rory, who works as a nurse. Currently, the only patient is Donna Noble, who has bad concussion. She fell down the stairs and can't remember a lot. She was planning to try to set up James with Rose – she runs the bakery – but she fell and can't remember her plan at all." Clara's eyes opened wide – that was awful.

"Who's likely to be at the pub?" she asked, curious as to which of the villagers she might meet.

"Jackie, Rose's mum. She works as a bar maid. James will probably be there, having a drink with Jack – he's in the navy and currently on leave – Rose might be there, with Amy, but Rory's on shift at the hospital. Quite honestly, I'm not sure who'll be there. Either way, they'll love you!" He sounded so confident and Clara, who had dropped behind, caught him up quickly as he turned into the pub.

Inside the pub, a blonde woman in her 40's who Clara assumed was Jackie was leaning on the bar, talking conspiratorially with 2 men in their late 30's. One of them was wearing a brown pin striped suit with converse and a long brown jacket and the other sounded American and was wearing a navy-blue trench coat.

The American turned round and came over to her as she entered, just behind John. "Captain Jack Harkness at your service. Who are you?" he asked, obviously flirting.

"Jack, stop it," said the man in the brown suit. He was Scottish, which wasn't surprising as they were near Scotland. He held out a hand to Clara, who shook it.

"I'm Doctor James McCrimmon, call me James," he said cheerily, leaning into the handshake in a friendly manner.

"I'm Clara Oswald, I've just moved into the bookstore down the road," she replied, smiling.

"Oh, we know that," said Jackie, in a harsh London accent; one thing Clara hadn't expected to hear. "Causing a right fuss you are missy. Shaking up all our lives." With a shake of her head, Jackie walked away, carrying a tray of drinks.

"Sorry about that," said a voice from behind Clara, another London accent, but softer; friendlier.

"Mum doesn't mean it. We're all very pleased to meet you. I'm Rose. Rose Tyler." Rose was probably in her mid twenties, similar to Clara. From one glance at Rose and James, Clara could tell they liked each other. She could see why Donna had been planning to set them up.

Over the course of her dinner with John, Clara met Amy Pond, and Amy's best friend Mels. Mels was the sole reason that a police force – an admittedly small one, but still a police force – was needed in Leadworth.

Overall, apart from Jackie, all the villagers were pleasant and welcoming and Clara walked back home and went straight to bed, exhausted from all the new names and faces, but she had a big smile on her face.


	2. River Song

**A/N I do not own any characters however I do own the plot to this story! Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and I was amazed by the number of followers I got! I was expecting 1, maybe 2, so 10 is amazing! Thank you all and please do review, constructive criticism is appreciated! ~Ellie**

* * *

The following day, Clara was rudely awakened by the sudden realisation she was laying on a completely deflated air bed. "Bother," she muttered, examining it and realising it had a puncture.

She checked her digital clock with its luminous red display and saw it was 5.47. There was no way she could go back to sleep, with a deflated bed, plus the morning light was streaming through the windows, which had probably contributed to her awakening.

She yawned and stretched as she headed downstairs to get herself a bowl of cereal, as it was quite literally the only food she had in her kitchen at that time. She took it with her as she wandered aimlessly about the house, making plans for the day.

Her first job was to paint the front of the shop and if she could, she'd try to put up her sign as well today, but she thought that was rather too optimistic.

Clara dropped her bowl and spoon into the sink, meaning to wash them up later. When she had been at university, her flat mate had usually done the washing up, because she had been a very tidy person and Clara was a bit more lazy. The washing up would get done, just… later.

After pottering around for a couple of hours, Clara decided that it was time to start work, so she got out a big roller, a ladder and paint and started to set up. The top was a good place to start, she decided, so she extended the ladder fully and leant it against the house. Navigating the ladder would be harder than yesterday, with a paint bucket, tray and roller to carry, but Clara stuck the roller and the tray under her arm and hooked the bucket over the crook of her arm and started to climb, using her spare arm.

"Careful!" called a familiar voice and Clara almost jumped off the ladder in her shock. John – or Chin Boy – was standing at the bottom of the ladder in a similar outfit to that she had met him in, but the bow tie and suspenders were red, not blue. Inexplicably, he was armed with a pair of garden shears and gardening gloves.

_How many bow ties does he have?_ wondered Clara as looked down, surprised to see him.

"Oy Chin Boy! What are you doing here?"

"_Chin Boy?"_ he looked insulted and put a hand to his chin. Clara gave him an apologetic look, but he shrugged it off. "I came to help, Clara! I thought you could do with some help over here!"

He looked so excited about the prospect of painting, Clara had to smile. He was still stood at the bottom of the ladder, bouncing on the balls of his feet and rubbing his hands together.

"Well, Chin Boy, if you want to help, you're going to need another ladder. Unless you think we can both use this one?" His face split into an even wider grin, which Clara had thought was impossible.

"I brought a ladder actually! And another 2 people to help!" Clara's brow creased in confusion – another 2 people? Then she grinned as Rose and Amy popped their heads round the tall trees that almost covered the front of the shop.

The shop was set back from the road and the front was mainly blocked from view by 8-foot-tall evergreen trees. A small path lead up to the front of the store and the garden on either side was a bit overgrown. Rose had come in an old pair of dungarees and she was armed with a ladder, and Amy appeared to be dragging a lawn mower with her too. Suddenly, the shears and gloves made a bit more sense to Clara.

"I thought you and John could work on the shop and we could work on the garden?" suggested Rose, as Clara carefully scrambled down the ladder.

"That was one of the things on my to-do list," admitted Clara. "Um, if you don't mind doing it, that's be great."

"Really, I'd like to do it! Martha's looking after the bakery for a few hours for me," said Rose, grinning, now wielding a pair of shears and looking a bit intimidating, so Clara didn't dare say no out of politeness.

"I bake sometimes," said Clara. "I make soufflés."

"Ha!" laughed John. "You've got competition Rose!" He clapped Clara on the shoulder, looking, for some bizarre reason, proud of the fact she baked.

"Honestly, you've not got any competition," admitted Clara, as John tried to climb a ladder with all the paint equipment in his arms. "I always try but I've never made a good one yet. It was my mum's recipe."

The use of the word 'was' didn't escape Rose's notice and she gave Clara a supportive smile. "Maybe we could work on it together," she offered. "But not now. I've got gardening to do, and you've got painting to do. Mind if I just get rid of it all?"

"No, just do it," sighed Clara. "I need a blank canvas out here." She turned back to the shop to lean the ladder Rose had brought against the wall so she could help John, while Amy started violently chopping at plants with her garden shears.

* * *

"Ahh!" Clara shrieked as she slipped, lost her grip on the ladder and fell to the floor.

"Clara!" yelled Rose and John, the latter of whom had to climb down his own ladder to reach her, so Rose was their first, along with Amy.

"She's unconscious, John," called Amy as he ran to them. "But she's alive and breathing... NO DON'T TOUCH HER!" she snapped. John stopped, just as he was about to pick her up. He looked at Amy with hurt puppy dog eyes.

"Get James," Rose told Amy. "I'll stay here." Amy nodded and took off, short skirt restricting her movement slightly.

"Rose, we can't leave her on the floor," John said, distressed.

"We can't move her unless you want to risk causing her worse damage than is already done." He scowled and sat next to her, brushing the hair out of her face. Her chest rose and fell gently, which Rose assumed was a good sign.

"I'm not a medical expert and neither are you," she continued. "But I know, and so do you that moving someone after a fall could cause all number of things. Paralysis and death being 2."

"I know," he replied, "but after River..."

"I'm sorry about River, John, but Clara isn't River. And it was a much smaller drop. And she attempted to cushion her landing, but she didn't have time... She's not going to die. It'll be fine." John nodded, still refusing to budge from Clara's side. Rose stayed with him, her arm around his shoulders to comfort him. She, too, was shaken, but also a bit confused about how hard he's taken Clara's fall. Admittedly, after what had happened to the last person he had been romantically involved with, she couldn't blame him for being petrified of heights and falling; Rose thought it was a miracle he'd got up the ladder at all, but he hardly knew Clara, and he cared about her a lot. It was good though, because River had died 5 years ago and he hadn't shown any interest in anyone since. Rose would have been worried Clara was replacing River, but they looked nothing alike and acted nothing alike, so it couldn't be a resemblance he was drawn to; it was just Clara.

No sooner had Rose come to this conclusion than James and Amy pulled up in the ambulance, the one that the town had, that hadn't been used since Donna's fall.

"You could have called," said James, as he started to carefully load Clara on to a stretcher.

"We didn't have mobiles, or keys to the bookshop and, well, it wasn't far to run, was it, Amy?" asked Rose. Amy shook her head. She didn't tell Rose that when she'd reached James she'd just managed to choke out a few words, which he'd thankfully understood and they had piled into the ambulance and, when Amy got her breath back on the way, she had started to fill in James on what had happened.

"No I was fine," she managed as John helped James load the stretcher.

"Are you OK to drive, Amy? You're qualified to, and I should be in the back to make sure nothing happens."

"I didn't train as an ambulance driver for nothing," she said, swinging herself into the front seat. John refused to get out the back so James just climbed in there with him.

"If you didn't train as an ambulance driver for nothing, did you train as a policewoman for nothing?" enquired Rose, joking about the fact Amy had been through a lot of jobs.

"Yes; there's nothing to do for a policewoman here," muttered Amy as John and James made sure Clara was safely in the back.

"Will you be OK, Rose?" asked James, sticking his head out.

"Sure," she replied. "I'll, um, call Mickey. Get him to help me move all this gardening equipment." James' face tightened slightly at the mention of Mickey, the local mechanic and handyman, and Rose's ex-boyfriend. They had split up on good terms, deciding they would be better as friends, but they were a bit too close for James' liking. Rose didn't notice his jealousy, but she knew the pair didn't get on particularly well.

"OK. Be careful. Amy, let's go!" he called to the front, slamming the doors shut, blocking Clara, James and John from Rose's view. As the ambulance drove away, she raised a hand in a half-hearted wave, before realising that she didn't have a phone. She shrugged, realising she was going to have to walk over to Mickey's if she wanted him to help out, but it wasn't a hardship. The town was small, so it wasn't far to walk anywhere really. She sighed and set off down the road, rather dejected. Her new friend had been hospitalised and she had been left to tidy up with her ex-boyfriend. Not a great way to spend your day off.

* * *

"Ow," muttered Clara, as she slowly came round.

"Are you OK?" asked a kindly male voice.

"Doctor McCrimmon?" she asked, recalling the man's name as she opened her eyes. He was definitely not Nurse Williams.

"Yep, but you can call me James. The tenth Doctor around here. The other 9 were my dad, grandad, great-grandad, and so on. If you want to know the family history."

"My head hurts," groaned Clara.

"The painkillers should kick in soon. Do you remember what happened?" asked James, taking a seat beside her bed.

"I fell off a ladder. Where's John?" she asked, quickly adding "And Rose and Amy?" as an afterthought. James smiled to himself but he knew someone needed to speak to her about John.

"Rose was tidying up with Mickey, then she went home and Amy and John waited her for a while, then went home. It's quite late you know. But Rose is on her way; she wanted me to tell her when you woke up." Clara was a little disappointed that John wasn't coming, but it'd be good to see Rose, even just for a bit. She didn't feel up to long conversations at that particular time.

"I'm going to have you transferred tomorrow, to the main hospital in the next town. I want to have you checked out for any internal damage properly and we don't have all the equipment here. But if they give you the OK, you'll be out tomorrow evening and John or Rose or Amy will go to pick you up." Clara nodded, just as Rose burst in, grinning. James instantly got up to leave, but he leant over and whispered something Clara didn't catch into Rose's ear before he left, and Rose replied, saying something along the lines of "yeah, I'll tell her", leaving Clara confused. Was she seriously injured? Did James just not want to tell her?

"What are you going to tell me? Am I dying?" asked Clara, panicked.

"No, no!" gasped Rose. "It's nothing like that; it's just… about John. There's something you have to know, before you put your foot in it by accident, I know you wouldn't do it on purpose but we've been a little worried about the fact that he hasn't shown any interest in a girl for 5 years."

"You think he's interested in me?" asked Clara. "I… We hardly know each other."

"Well he's more interested in you than anyone else, but you're friends, so you should know this anyway. Because I don't want you to hurt him." Clara propped herself up in bed and Rose dropped into the chair beside her bed that James had recently vacated. "7 years ago, John arrived in town, having just got his Doctorate in archaeology. And with him, was his girlfriend, a woman he'd met while studying, another Doctor of Archaeology. Her name was River Song and they stayed here for 2 years before they went to travel the world together. In a sense, he's the 11th Doctor of Leadworth, him and James joke about it." Rose laughed for a moment, before returning to her story.

"They were looking at buildings that fascinated them, mainly, both being archaeologists. But while they were out there, about 3 months before they were due back, there was an accident. One of the skyscrapers they were looking at wasn't, well it wasn't finished and it was unsafe. John and River were warned not to go near the edge, but she did. She stepped in just the wrong place and the floor gave way. There was no way she could have survived it. John came back early, devastated. He'd been planning to propose to her, but he never got the chance." Clara's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears.

"That's terrible," she murmured, feeling sleepy and sinking back into her bed. "And since then he hasn't seen anyone else?" Rose shook her head.

"No-one. It took us all quite some time to get close to him again, because at first, he would just stay inside and we'd never see him. Eventually, Amy managed to go and speak to him… well; she stormed in telling him to get up and make an effort to rebuild his life. Not the kindest of approaches but it seemed to work. Just getting him back to normal was an achievement in itself; seeing him possibly interested in someone is another big step forwards. Obviously, if you're not interested in him, then don't do anything you don't want to, but stay away from the topic of exes and don't mention River, unless he decides to tell you." Clara nodded, feeling herself slip away.

"Sleep well, Clara, I'll see you soon," said Rose quietly, squeezing her hand, and that was the last thing Clara remembered before sleep claimed her and she fell into a deep sleep, the best she'd had in a long time.


End file.
